


Keep Worrying

by taylor_tut



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Overworking, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Sick Character, Sick Edward Elric, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request from my tumblr for Ed being overworked and overcaffeinated and Riza stepping in to make sure he takes a break.





	Keep Worrying

Ed probably would have gotten away with falling asleep at his desk if he hadn’t woken up from a nightmare so startling that he yelped aloud. That alerted—nay, silenced—his entire vicinity at Central Command, making him flush red as he heard papers stop rustling and conversations pause and people stand still. Irritably, embarrassedly, he turned his attention back to the papers he’d been looking over when he’d fallen asleep as the rest of his coworkers resumed their activities, filling the office once more with idle chatter and ambient noise. 

He’d been overworked beyond reason, even for a soldier and especially for a teenager. Prior to falling asleep, he’d reread the same sentence in his report probably fifteen times, his eyelids becoming heavier with each fruitless pass he took at making any sense of the words, and before he’d even registered it, he’d dozed off in his chair. A nightmare had woken him—they were common when Al was away, even more so when he’d gone a night (or two) without sleep, and, just to put the cherry on top, especially when he was cold, which he was, never having fully warmed up from the snowy trek to the office that morning. 

“Did you have a nice nap, Fullmetal?” a condescending voice drawled from behind him, setting all the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. 

“Wasn’t napping,” he grumbled irritably, rubbing at his eyes unconvincingly like a tired child. 

“Sure,” Roy rolled his eyes, “then you’ve just learned to read with your eyes shut, I suppose?”

“What can I say; I’m a prodigy,” he huffed. “Did you want something?” Turning bleary, red-rimmed eyes on the Colonel, he mustered up the best glare he had the energy for, but he could feel just how lackluster it was. 

“Could you possibly mean the thing I’ve been asking you for since yesterday afternoon?”

Ed blinked. Shit. “My report,” he inferred using his masterful powers of reasoning and the immeasurable predictability of the Colonel Bastard.

“Astute deduction, Fullmetal,” he replied glibly. “At your leisure, I’ll be in my office, waiting.” As he turned to leave, Ed made to follow him, but wavered when everything spun for a moment. He wasn’t going to get through this without a little more coffee, he decided, even though he’d already had so many cups that morning that he’d lost count, never mind that he hated the taste. Any beverage traditionally made better by the addition of milk was not to be trusted. 

Ignoring that, he made his way dizzily over to the coffee pot station to fill up another cup. Without really being able to see, he poured the coffee with his metal hand and held the cup with his flesh one—which was apparently a bad idea, because immediately his doubling vision had him missing the edge of the cup and spilling hot liquid over the side of it. 

“Damn it!” he yelped, shoving the coffee pot back into its crevice and jerking his hand away. It had already turned bright red and stung like crazy. His exhausted brain was too muddled to think through what to do, however, until a gentle hand pressed itself against his back and began to guide him toward Roy’s office. He glanced up to see Riza, who had set down her own coffee mug in favor of helping to alleviate the burning in his hand, leading the way through the hallway without a word. 

“Fullmetal,” Roy greeted unpleasantly as soon as the door swung open, “how nice of you to—Lieutenant?” 

She was already grabbing a medium-sized pitcher of water that Roy kept in his office to dilute the caffeine from his bloodstream every once in a while and gingerly putting Ed’s hand inside. That got Roy’s attention. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

Riza looked up, the cold, serious expression she reserved only for business clear on her face. “Edward burned his hand,” she explained. Ed was still in somewhat of a state of shock. The vertigo hadn’t really worn off at all, so the office was still spinning rapidly around him, and if it weren’t for Riza’s hand on his back, he was sure he’d have fallen over by now. He knew they were talking about him—possibly to him, but their words sounded as if he was listening underwater. While he still felt chilled, an undercurrent of heat was now beginning to rise up from the collar of his shirt disorientingly. 

“Edward,” Riza prompted, sounding as if it weren’t the first time she’d called his name and wearing a concerned facial expression to match, “is your hand alright?” Ed removed it from the pitcher and nodded. 

“Fullmetal, you reply verbally when a superior officer addresses you,” Roy commanded. Instead of complying or, more characteristically, arguing, he simply nodded again and closed his eyes to keep the spinning sensation at bay. For one reason or another, that seemed to spark worry in the Colonel’s voice rather than annoyance. “Should I call a medic?” 

Riza shifted against him and that’s when he realized that he was still partially pressed against her. She called his name in a caring, concerned female voice that reminded him of everything he’d ever lost. He whimpered, shut his eyes, and rag-dolled forward into her shoulder. 

“He might be in shock,” Riza fretted. She tenderly pulled his hand from the water to examine it, finding nothing of concern—a first-degree burn at worst, something she’d seen Ed power through 1000 times without even so much as flinching. 

“What was he even doing?” Roy asked, flabbergasted. “I told him to come give his report.”

Ed felt a rise of indignance overshadow the exhaustion for a moment. “I’m tired,” he argued, as if that clarified anything. Riza connected the dots.

“He was pouring a cup of coffee, Sir.”

With that all cleared up, Ed figured that he had a few moments to relax before anyone needed him again, so he shut his eyes once more, only to be shaken harshly by Roy. 

“Stay awake, Edward,” he commanded. Ed must really be in trouble if he was using his first name, he thought, but the thrill of pissing Roy off wasn’t enough to keep unconsciousness at bay. The last thing he registered was Riza pressing a cold hand to his forehead before he fell asleep once more.

\------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes again, he was in the hospital, his least favorite place in the world. Ed tried to call for Al to ask what had happened—he didn’t really remember much after waking up that morning—but found that Al wasn’t there with him, and that the croak of his voice had only alerted Riza from her bedside paperwork pile. 

“Edward,” she greeted with a smile, calmly setting her work down. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Ed shook his head to rid it of her concern. “What happened?”

She sighed. “You fainted in the Colonel’s office,” she explained. “The doctor says that your heart rate was 145 beats per minute when you were admitted. How many cups of coffee did you have today?” He averted his gaze. “Was it to cover up the fact that you’re running a fever?”

That was news to him. “I’m—I am?” He pressed a hand to his own forehead but was unable to feel a difference. Riza took a calming breath. 

"You should have told someone when you got so overwhelmed with work. We wouldn't have been unreasonable. You really worried me today."

"You don't have to worry about me."

Riza rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she almost laughed. "Right."

He glared. "Al and I, we're fine."

She nodded. "I know, Edward." These kids would be the death of her someday. They got themselves into so much trouble and couldn't so much as see it coming. They were still young enough to need someone to see around corners for them, but in their line of work, the line of work she had to watch them clock in and out of every day, stamp the official paperwork that assigned them to and sent them out on dangerous missions—in their line of work, danger usually jumped out at them from around corners before even an adult might have seen it, not to mention two teenagers.

He didn't look up from his hands, knotted in the sheets, pointedly refusing to meet her eyes. 

"But," he began hesitantly, almost like it physically pained him to say it, "if you wouldn't mind. Maybe just. Keep worrying?" He bit his cheek, still not averting his eyes from the bed. "It makes it feel like there's still someone out there, you know?"

Riza reached across the bed and grabbed for his hand, patting it twice and not letting go until he looked up at her so she could give him a reassuring, unfaltering smile. 

"There is," she promised. "Lots of us. We've got your backs, both of you boys, if you let us."

It might have been the fever, or the lack of sleep, or maybe the painkillers, but Ed's defenses were down, and for some reason, that set him over the edge. His eyes welled up with tears, and he forced his eyes back down to his lap, scrubbing at his eyes with his flesh arm and wincing when it tugged at the IV. To keep him from powering through that pain just so she wouldn't see him crying, Riza stood, pulling him close to her chest and wrapping her arms around his small body. He was shaking a little, probably both from crying and from fever-chills, so she tugged his blanket up over his shoulders but promised herself that she wouldn't let go until he pushed her away. 

And, unfortunately, she had a feeling it wouldn't be nearly long enough before that happened. It never was.

 


End file.
